Home
by GreatDarkNoodleKing
Summary: As much as Jack detested it, part of the Guardian gig was making a hideout. Or, selecting one, really... Jack couldn't choose anywhere that would really suit him- he wanted to stay near Burgess. So... He kind of... Borrowed one... Mild blackice


_**Good grief, in every scene of the movie where Jack and Pitch are together I still grin like a fool. "This ship sails itself". And it does. Goodness, all the hints and looks and blatant self-shipping. It's fantastic.**_

Jack ran his fingers through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. He was mad. With good reason.

"No one ever told me I'd have to do crap like this…" Being a guardian now, Jack had to officially choose where he wanted his hideout to be. Stomping his foot on the earth for the fifth time, he snarled, "This was the **one** thing I did **not** want to do!" Slamming his staff into the ground again, freezing the grass beneath him for the thirtieth time, he spat, "I _told_ them I **didn't** want to do this!"

He ran his fingers through his hair again. This was stupid. Why did he need to have a 'home'? He already considered Burgess his home. And he hated being tied down to one specific location. He _liked_ going wherever the wind took him. But now he had to make himself a hiding place? This was _incredibly_ stupid.

"Why do I even have to do this…? It's dumb… Not like I'm ever gonna be there…" he continued grumbling, smacking his staff on the ground again and again and again. He hated this. He wanted nothing more than to lie and say he had a home but didn't really. But… The Guardians said they'd be checking up with him once he said he had a home. They wanted to see it for themselves to decide if it was Guardian worthy.

Hitting the ground again, Jack growled with frustration. Why couldn't he just have a tree for his home? "Because there's always the risk that it could be chopped down…" he knew that would be what they'd say.

Grumbling in annoyance, he smacked the earth again.

"Is there any particular reason you're making so much noise up here…?" Jack blinked at the voice. Spinning around, holding his staff up in defense, Jack gaped as he saw the Boogeyman standing near him. Well, leaning against a nearby tree, really, but he was pretty close.

Frowning at him, Jack asked, "What do you want, Pitch?"

The tall grey skinned spirit scowled. Lifting his hand to examine his nails, which were suddenly more interesting than Jack, he grumbled, "I wanted to know why my sleep was being interrupted by a loud thumping above me…"

Blinking, Jack quickly realized that he had been the one causing the thumping. Cheeks flushed ever so slightly, Jack lowered his staff. "Oh, right, that… Uh… Sorry, I guess…" he mumbled sheepishly. Should he have been apologizing to the King of Nightmares? Probably not. But Jack still had the problem of making himself a hideout on his hands.

Groaning, running his hands through his hair once more, Jack tried to figure out how he could do this. He'd love nothing more than to create a home made entirely of snow, but if he wanted it here in Burgess he wouldn't be able to have it last all year. The Guardians wouldn't be pleased with that. He growled loudly and slammed the end of his staff into the ground again.

"My tremendous intuitive senses inform me that you are… troubled?" Pitch said from his spot against the tree. Jack blinked and turned back to look at him. "Not that I intend to help in any way, but is there something I can do?"

"No," Jack grumbled, dropping the staff to his side and huffing angrily, "It's just… Apparently now that I'm a Guardian I have to have a hideout because it's like a requirement and I've already told the others it's not my thing, and that I like going wherever, I'm not even gonna use the stupid thing more than the first time they come to check up on it, and it's really dumb and-"

He paused and looked back up at Pitch. He was just watching Jack, not offering up any advice, or attempting to help, just standing there looking bored.

"Wait… What if…" Jack raised one hand toward Pitch, "What if I used _your_ lair as my hideout?" Now Pitch's expression changed. He frowned at that. Jack knew he didn't like the idea.

"Jus- just hear me out!" he said quickly, before the Nightmare King could yell at him, "I'm, I'm not gonna use it at all. I just need to tell the Guardians I have a place and then they'll leave me alone!"

Scowling, arms crossed over his chest, Pitch hissed coldly, "And what makes you think they'll go for it? They aren't **that** thick. They know what my home looks like, Jack…"

Jack waved his hand impatiently. "I'll think of something when they get here. But will you let me? I won't even use it! Promise! If I show up ever again, it'll only be because the others made me!"

Still frowning at Jack, ignoring his pleading puppy eyes, Pitch sighed irritably. "If it'll allow me some sleep, fine." Jack jumped excitedly at that and tossed something into the air, which lit up bright and shot out the Northern Lights. Pitch scowled at them distastefully before disappearing into the shadows.

When the others arrived, Jack announced that he had found himself a hideaway. "Excellent!" North shouted before looking around and seeing nothing. "Where?"

Jack led them to the hole in the ground that led to Pitch's lair, or well… Technically for the moment it was his too. He pointed down at it and immediately Bunny scoffed. "That's Pitch's lair, Jack," he spat.

"So?" Jack retorted quickly, looking back at him, "He said I could use it as my hideout too. It's big enough for an entire army down there!"

Tooth looked at him nervously. "Why would you want to use his home…?"

Swallowing, Jack fumbled for an answer. He hadn't gotten that far in his planning. "Well, uh, it's… it's cold down there, and I can make snow in my own little room whenever I want without it being… unseasonal… And it won't melt in the summer… And um… Well, it's quiet down there… So… So…" Now he trailed off. That was really the best he could come up with. "And, uh, well, he's got all those cages hangin everywhere, so those could be good places to hang icicles or… it'll be fun to ride the wind through, I guess…"

He looked at the others and every single one of them looked concerned. "Well, all that aside, Jack," Tooth said, flitting to his side, "He did try to kill you… And he doesn't much like any of us… Are you sure it would be safe?"

"He said it was okay," Jack said defensively. That was the only argument he could make. Everything else he thought up didn't make much sense.

After a long while of everyone looking at each other and then at Jack, North finally said, "Alright…"

"What?" Bunny quickly shouted, "Alright? How is this alright?" He scoffed again. "You're just gonna let Jack stay with Pitch? The one who tried to have us all disappear forever?! Mates, are you nuts?!"

Sighing, North looked at Jack. Jack saw his look and quickly put on a defensive, angry frown. He was standing firm in this. He wasn't choosing another home. His body language resounded that in waves. North said Jack didn't want to pick again, so he could just deal with it. He handed him several snowglobes, however, and said, "If anything happens, you do not hesitate to come see me."

"I will," Jack said, waving them away with his snowglobes. Smiling at the shimmering round objects, Jack looked down the hole that was Pitch's lair and hopped in.

He picked a little corner of the massive place, near the globe sculpture looking thing, and made a snowdrift. He then set the globes in the snow, gave them a little ice coating, and made ready to hop right out and leave.

"What are you leaving in here?" Pitch asked from somewhere in the lair. It startled Jack. He still wasn't used to that.

After jumping out of his skin, Jack said, "Just some snowglobes North gave me. Is this spot okay for em?"

"The snow's going to melt…" Pitch sounded closer now, "You need to put them on something so they're not rolling around my lair at night…"

Jack frowned. "All right, then give me something to put them on or in," he snapped. He felt Pitch materialize near him. The wind changed and rustled his hair. Turning to him, Jack waited with his hands on his hips. When Pitch looked at him, he raised his eyebrows angrily.

"What makes you think I won't just take them?" he asked.

Jack frowned harder. "Because you travel through shadows anyhow, and they'd be kind of pointless for you to steal…" he said. Pitch scowled at him for that, but immediately reached one hand out toward the globes. The snow shifted as a black cloth wrapped around them and they settled like eggs in a nest.

"There," Pitch grumbled, "Now get out." Jack scowled at him in response before gripping his staff tight and flying out with a purposeful flurry of snow.

It was several months later, during winter in the Americas, that Jack was floating around Russia. He wanted to go see Jamie again. He finally was able to. So, hopping up somewhere high, he shouted, "Wind- take me home!"

He was flown all over, shouting happily the whole way, when he finally saw Burgess. He laughed excitedly, but then was surprised that the wind blew him past Jamie's house. "Hey!" the wind dropped him off in the woods, right in front of Pitch's hole in the ground.

Blinking down at it, he looked around, scowling at the wind. "Um, I said take me _home_." The wind proceeded to swirl around him in a playful manner. "Is this your idea of a joke? This isn't my home and you know it. Stop acting like a little kid." Again the wind swirled around him.

"Alright, then I'll walk **myself** to Jamie's," as he began to walk away, the wind swirled around him and then gave him a few gentle nudges toward Burgess. Smirking, he asked, "Ready to stop being a smart aleck?" The wind ruffled his hair excitedly. With that, he hopped up and let it bounce him to Jamie's house.

More time went by now. Probably a few more months, during the middle of spring. Jack was riding the wind, and even though it wasn't his seasonal time, he wanted to pay Jamie a visit. So, he told the wind to take him home.

Once again, it dropped him off right in front of Pitch's hole in the earth. Frowning, Jack asked, "Are you kidding? Once _might_ have been funny, but a **second**_ time?_ You're kidding right?" Now the wind swirled around him and lifted him up. It started flying him back to Jamie's.

But once they reached the edge of the woods, it spun him right back around. Standing in front of the hole again, Jack asked, "You're joking… Are you kidding me right now?" The wind nudged him.

"What do you even want me to do?" he asked, scowling. The wind ruffled his hair and then gushed down the hole, whistling loudly, before coming back up and swirling around him again. Smirking, he asked, "If I go down there once for you, will you stop acting like a child and never take me back again unless I specifically ask?" The wind swirled around him, lifting his sweater ever so slightly. "I'm taking that as a yes."

So, he hopped down into Pitch's lair. Once his feet met the cold, stone ground, Jack looked around, half expecting to be met by hoards of angry nightmares. When he found none he smiled to himself.

Looking for the wind, he asked, "You happy now? Ready to go?" Instead, the wind surged from behind him, basically screaming at him to go in further. Waving his hands around, Jack shouted, "Alright! Alright, I'm goin'! I'm goin'!"

He walked for a long while, following wherever the wind beckoned him to go, before he found a room with a little more lighting in it. Peeking inside, Jack was utterly shocked to find a fireplace inside, with a fire currently crackling away. There were a few chairs in the room as well, but other than that it looked utterly empty. Save for the man resting in one of those cushy looking chairs.

Jack gawked at Pitch- he was reclining in the big black seat, a book in one hand, and a teacup in the other. But what really got Jack's jaw to drop was the fact that he had no shirt on. Not even his robe, which was hanging along the back of the chair.

"Are you just going to stand there staring at me or are you going to come in?" Pitch asked, not bothering to look up from his book.

Stepping inside, Jack asked, "How'd you know I was here?"

"I heard you," he replied flatly, flipping to the next page, "You yell a lot…" Jack frowned angrily at that and walked in, blowing a spray of snow onto the lounging Nightmare King.

He frowned when they landed on his book- he didn't seem to care that most landed in his hair and on his chest. Lifting his eyes to glare up at the snow spirit, he grumbled, "Child…"

"Oh, shut up and read your stupid book," Jack growled in response, going and plopping himself down in another chair. He smiled to himself. "It's nice an' warm in here," he announced.

Pitch was back to reading. He didn't look up as he spat, "It got a remarkable degree colder once you showed up…"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, quit whining," he said, "It's still nice and toasty, so you're fine… Besides, it's not like I can help it…" Jack watched Pitch take a sip from his cup. He frowned and looked around for the wind. "So can we go now?" he asked.

The wind blew into his face and around the room, and immediately the fire went out. He heard Pitch snarl angrily. Within seconds the light returned and Jack saw Pitch looming over the fire pit. He stared at him curiously, eyes slowly scanning over his exposed back. Pitch had a few scars across his back. But other than that, it was a long, smooth grey line of muscle. Jack could barely make out the faint bumps of his spine. Once he found the top one, he let his eyes search down for the rest.

He smiled and continued looking at him. His eyes slid lower and lower down Pitch's back until they rested on the roundness of the back of his pants. Jack kept smiling as he watched.

Hearing a soft chuckle. "Like what you see over there?" Blinking, Jack hadn't even noticed he was resting his right cheek on his hand. Lifting himself up to sit in a tight ball, cheeks flushed bright red, he looked away as hard as he possibly could. If his eyes could have bored a hole in the wall, they would have. He heard Pitch laugh at him again.

He looked back at him and found Pitch smirking at him from beside the fireplace. He hadn't moved from his position, but his smile was certainly wider and his left brow was higher. Blushing even brighter, Jack squeaked, "S-shut up!"

Pitch laughed. "I don't believe I said anything," he said, getting up and walking back toward his chair.

"Your expression did," Jack grumbled, glaring fiercely at the wall. He heard Pitch's chuckle ringing in his ears. It sent a shiver up his spine that he wished it didn't.

"Maybe I should remember to always wear my robe when you're around, mm?" he teased. Jack told him to shut up again. "You're the one who was staring at my a-"

Jack threw a snowball at his back. Pitch gasped loudly and turned to look at him. He still had no shirt, so that was probably _**cold**_. Grinning, Jack tossed another one in his hand, ready to throw it again. Just as he was about to, he was thrown out of the chair and to the ground near the doorway.

"Get out," Pitch ordered coldly. "This may be your home as the Guardians are concerned, but between us, you have no business being here." Jack pushed himself up onto his hands, staring at Pitch in mild hurt.

"Pi- look, I was just trying to have a little fun!" Jack quickly said.

The dark spirit didn't turn to look at him. "Yes, well, **fun **isn't exactly my area of expertise. Now if you don't leave I'm going to have to remove you by force."

For some reason that upset Jack more than it really should have. Biting back his lower lip, which felt heavy and quiverish, he hopped to his feet, kicked his staff into his hand, and whispered, "Come on, wind…"

It was a very long time before he went back. It had been a few years. And he was only in Burgess because it was Jamie's birthday. He wanted to give him something special for a present. And he figured a way to see him if he really wanted would be the best- he'd give him a snowglobe.

As much as he didn't want to go back down where Pitch would be, Jack had to go get Jamie his present. He floated down and tried his absolute best to creep silently to his little corner of the place. He reached down and picked up a snowglobe from the sandy bedding. Smiling at it, he watched his own reflection. His thoughts faded to North for a moment, the one who gave it to him, and he smiled when the image turned to his workshop. So, he thought of something else. He pictured the Moon, and it showed him a flat, white surface where a small man was standing. Grinning, he thought of something even better. He thought of himself and where he was. And he could see himself. It looked like it was staring from above and a little ways behind him. Jack grinned at the back of his head that was visible. But after a moment of looking, he noticed that there was someone else a little ways behind him.

Spinning around, Jack found Pitch lurking not too far away. He didn't look pleased to see him here. Holding up his hands, Jack said, "Before you say anything- I was just getting a snowglobe as a present for Jamie!"

Pitch frowned at that. Swallowing in the tension of the air, Jack stammered, "I-uh… I a-also noticed th… you haven't taken one yet."

Rolling his eyes, the tall spirit hissed, "I don't need them…"

"So… I was right when I said you wouldn't take 'em?" Jack asked, trying to start up a little bit of friendly conversation.

But instead Pitch looked angrier. "You also said you'd never come here unless the Guardians were forcing you to, and as it seems, they aren't forcing you right now…" Now Jack felt cornered. Swallowing again, he looked down at the ground. His eyes looked to the snowglobe and he decided he'd overstayed his welcome. Without another word, he hopped onto a gust of wind and hurried out.

Weeks later Jack was sitting in North's workshop, listening as he talked about having a family in his past life. And having one now with the Guardians. He considered them all his family. But Jack didn't feel the same way. Sure, they were all friends, but Bunny still showed him a great deal of disdain, and Tooth was still too clingy for his liking. He loved them all dearly, but after being completely alone for 300 years and none of them ever having experienced a pain like that, Jack felt more than a little isolated in their company. He felt like he was different. Like he didn't fit in with them. The only one who actually could understand why he felt like this might have been Bunny, but he had only experienced the anguish for a single day. Not even. He had only had to deal with it once and probably never would have to again. The only other person…

Jack swallowed. Pitch had been alone for years longer than Jack had. He could understand hi- ah, no… If anything it would be Jack understanding _his_ pain. In comparison, Jack probably looked like Bunny did. Only experiencing this loneliness for a brief moment while Pitch probably had suffered… How long?

Looking at the others, Jack asked at random, "Hey, how long ago were the Dark Ages?"

"Oh, long time," Bunny replied, "Before Tooth really came around… Before Sandy and the rest of us, too. The Man in the Moon took care of that and our Golden Age began and is still going on. 'Course, Sandy coming around was what technically started the end of the Dark Ages. He gave sweet dreams and brought light to the darkness…"

Jack furrowed his brow. So if it was before any of them besides Sandy… Then that meant Pitch had been exiled for centuries… Now he felt bad. He definitely was Bunny to Pitch. He hadn't truly experienced the loneliness. He just had a good idea what it was like…

After the conversations had ended, Jack hopped up and out a window to fly… Well… Sighing, he said, "Hey, wind… Ta…" he huffed again nervously, "Take me to Pitch's…" And with that, they were off.

Landing in the big, dark place, Jack proceeded to wander around, looking for that room with the fireplace again. He did, but it was empty. He decided to sit in there anyway- Pitch always seemed to know when he was there. He walked over to the fireplace and was a little surprised to find a box of matches next to it. He picked one up and out and flicked it across the sandpaper edge. It lit up and he cringed at how keenly he could feel the heat of it against his skin. He threw it into the pit. It sparkled a little bit weakly before going out. Huffing angrily, he tried again, with the same result.

He was on his seventh one when he felt that familiar shift in the air of the room. He held the lit match and threw it in again, watching angrily as it sputtered and died out again. He went to light another and went to throw it in again. A soft gray hand slid over his, stopping him.

"Give me the match," Pitch whispered to him. Jack didn't argue- he complied in silence. Pitch leaned over and gently touched the flame to an end of a log in the fire, lighting the dried splinters and bark of it. "You can't just throw it in… It'll die without fuel… You have to ease it in and gently let it grow…" He then pulled the match back as the fire spread inside and blew it out.

"I would have done that if the fire didn't hurt so much," Jack grumbled, looking at his thumb and forefinger, which were both red from the abuse. It hadn't even touched him and it had burned him.

He felt Pitch take hold of his hand now and he looked over his fingers. He smiled softly. "Nothing you can't mend," he said, getting up and patting Jack on the back, "Just make yourself a pile of snow and you'll be fine…"

Jack did and shoved his hand into the snow. He heard Pitch chuckle near him. Jack watched the fire burning. It was going strong, and he smiled at how easily he could feel its warmth. "Where's the smoke go?" he asked.

"Out," Pitch replied, sitting beside him with a book in hand. Jack smacked him playfully on the arm for that.

"Out where, you jerk…" it wasn't even a question, he was just grumbling at him. Pitch only shrugged and read his book. Jack sat there with his hand in the rapidly melting snow for a long while, just staring at the fire, when he got bored. Groaning, he stretched both arms up over his head, yawned dramatically, and flopped over across Pitch's lap.

The Nightmare King blinked and then scowled down at him. "Get off," he growled.

"No," Jack replied, "I'm bored…"

"That's not my problem," Pitch said, flipping to the next page in his book. He didn't do anything after that, though, so Jack was able to just lay in his lap without complaint.

Of course, after a few minutes, Pitch said, "You're cold. Get off my legs…"

Jack laughed lightly. "I'm warming up, calm down… See?" He raised his hand up and poked Pitch's book, attempting to frost it over, but only producing moisture and dampening the cover. Pitch didn't look happy that he had done it, though.

"You're going to ruin my book," he growled darkly. Jack rolled his eyes and nestled himself into a more comfortable spot on Pitch's lap. The dark man only sighed in agitation.

Jack just watched Pitch's facial expressions as he read. He yawned once more a little while later, and he sighed as his eyes fell shut.

He woke up to find Pitch shaking him and shouting at him. He looked absolutely terrified. Jumping up to his knees, Jack asked, "What? What is it? What happened?"

He froze when he found the two of them absolutely surrounded by nightmares. They were literally everywhere. Looking to Pitch, Jack swallowed and tried to find some explanation in his eyes.

"You fell asleep," he whispered, "Do you have **any** idea how dangerous that was?" Blinking, Jack glanced at the nightmares warily. "You left them an open mind to attack. The Sandman cannot reach you down here…"

Jack scooted a little closer to Pitch. The nightmares weren't leaving. Why weren't they leaving?

"You were lucky you were with me," Pitch whispered, "They would have devoured you, otherwise…"

Swallowing, Jack asked, "C-couldn't you just tell them not to give me any bad dreams…?"

"I could…" Pitch replied, an arm slowly wrapping around Jack and pulling him closer. Jack saw him scowling at one of the nightmares that was trying to move closer. "Once they've warmed up to you… Right now they aren't too keen on the Frost spirit that cost a great deal of them the lives of their comrades and mates…" Jack swallowed.

"In other words, they're still pretty miffed at me for beating you…"

"That'd be correct," Pitch said. He shooed the nightmares away, telling them that he and Jack had a mutual agreement. "He won't be hurting any of you, I can assure you… If he does, he'll have to find another place to pretend to live in."

Jack pouted at him for that for a split second before returning to eye the nightmares. He wasn't calm until every last one had left the room. Only then did his muscles unwind and his heart rate go down. He relaxed in Pitch's hold and lifted his eyes to look at him.

"So… can I go back to sleep…?" he asked.

Pitch looked at him and smiled a little. "Yes," he said, "But for the time being, it would be best if you only slept when I am able to watch over you."

Chuckling lightly, getting to his feet and crawling into one of the big chairs to curl up into a ball, Jack said, "Now there's an odd statement in and of itself… I'm being watched over, protected from Nightmares, by the Boogeyman… Heheh…" Pitch chuckled softly with him and that was what put Jack back to sleep- the soft thrum of Pitch's deep, warm chuckle.

When he woke back up, Jack felt wonderfully rejuvenated. Lifting his head somewhat sleepily, he licked the roof of his mouth and yawned. He heard Pitch chuckle at him. "You yawn just like a baby does after waking up," he said.

Blinking his fresh eyes over at the chair opposite him, Jack asked, "You watch me sleep all night?"

"Most of it," Pitch replied, "But, it may surprise you, I _do_ enjoy a small amount of sleep every now and again…"

Jack smiled sleepily. "And you watch babies often enough to know I yawn like one?"

"It's my job to give people nightmares. Babies included…" he grumbled. Jack frowned at that.

"You shouldn't give babies nightmares," he said, "They're too young. They need to enjoy their life…" Pitch rolled his eyes.

"A typical Guardian response," he grumbled, standing up and stretching out his limbs.

Jack sat upright in his chair. "What do you mean by that?"

"I _mean_," Pitch hissed, "Is that is exactly what all you goody goodies would say. Did you ever once think that maybe fear is a good thing?" Jack scowled at him, but didn't say anything. "If a child isn't afraid of running into a busy road, they do it and they get hit by a car. If a child isn't afraid of strangers, they talk to them, and they get kidnapped. And…" he seemed almost unwilling to say the last bit, "If a child isn't afraid of thin ice, they go skating when the snow begins to melt and they fall in."

Jack bit his lip and tried not to feel too hurt by that. It didn't really work. He could feel the tears brimming at his eyelids. Looking down, Jack chose not to look at Pitch.

He heard him walking toward him. "Jack… I'm sorry…" he whispered, "Please, I didn't mean that…"

"No," Jack said, pushing himself out of the chair, "No, you meant everything you said… I was the stupid one to bring it up."

"Jack."

He started walking out of the room. And he almost made it. But when a hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him back, he didn't get to leave like he wanted to. He felt Pitch's body press against his back.

"How are you going to leave if you don't bring your staff?" Pitch whispered, pulling him back into the room and onto one of the chairs. Jack didn't really care which one. He was too busy crying to care. Pitch sat him down in his lap, cradling the sad youth in his arms.

He allowed the freezing tears to run onto his robes and his skin. Jack whimpered and continued to cry for a reason he didn't entirely understand. Why had Pitch upset him? He had only said the truth. He hadn't even mentioned his little sister… Oh, no, the tears came faster. That was why Jack was upset. He was thinking of his sister.

Sobbing openly, Jack whimpered into Pitch's chest. "I don't even remember her name, Pitch… I've forgotten everything about her…" He was sure Pitch would know what he was talking about. He knew his fears were probably spewing out of him right now. All of his fears that she had died anyway, that she forgot him, that he wasn't worthy of being immortal because he couldn't remember her.

Pitch hushed him softly. "There, there, Jack, it's alright… I can't remember mine either…"

Hiccupping, Jack blinked up at him. "Your what?" he asked, confused.

"My family… I can't remember them either…"

Inhaling softly, Jack asked, "Really? Bu… But… I… I th-tought that y-you we-ere chosen-n…" Pitch shook his head gently. "D-did yo-u-uu die too?"

"I cannot say," Pitch whispered to him, "I can't even remember that… And because I existed before your precious Tooth Fairy, she cannot have my memories, and I will never know…"

Jack blinked and looked down. He lifted his eyes back up and whispered, "I'm sorry…"

Pitch gave him a small smile. "It's fine. I don't dwell on it too much…"

Smiling weakly in return, Jack said, "W-well… If you w-want… We-e could start over… and… an- we could be each other's family…"

Pitch's eyes softened and he gazed sweetly down at Jack. "I think that'd be easy enough…" he kissed his forehead, "After all… This place already is your home…"

_**Aaaaaaa….. All the fluffiness! It's so adorable! I'm in love with this story baby I just made! *cradles the story child* I wuv you snoogums! **_


End file.
